Dalliance
by Anna Marcelli Palmer
Summary: Believing his death to be near, Sonic finally confesses his feelings to Amy. But he survives. And when he awakens in a hospital room, nothing is going to be the same again for either of them.


**Dalliance**

_**a story by A.M. Palmer **_

* * *

I wish I were dead. I wish a goddamn truck had ran over me the very second I exited my house this morning.

It all began as a mere expedition against the mad doctor, a daily routine all of us were accustomed to. Then stuff happened. Things quickly got complicated. There was debris and explosions everywhere, so we lost track of one another and were left defenseless, each of us having to fend for our own. Remember myself screaming as missiles smashed against every possible surface surrounding me, from the destroyed highways to the derelict buildings. There was a familiar sound here and there -Rouge calling someone's name repeatedly from somewhere afar, the distinctive roar of the Tornado hovering above, the aftermath of a Chaos blast- but nobody to cling on to.

At one point, something smashed against my head. Sharp, heavy-probably a shard of something bigger, a robot or machine of shorts. Everything instantly melted into a blurry conglomerate, then scarlet mucus hampered my limited vision. An attempt to flung my hammer at a bypassing enemy was proved a massive un-success, resulting in losing my balance and landing upon a layer of dirt and shattered glass.

Then, a deafening sound, a sudden uproar reaching its crescendo. A grandiose explosion. Pieces of metal flying by like shooting stars. A heart wrenching, throaty exclamation. And finally, just an unsettling, ominous, viscous silence.

Lazily, the smoke went down, and a deplorable new version of the city was exposed to the cruel sunlight. Coughing and panting heavily, I looked around baffled, eyes roaming the surroundings for any trace of my friends. I could easily tell Eggman had been defeated, but there also was a very ugly predicament lying underneath. And, as soon as my senses returned to normal, it became clear what it was about.

Blinked twice, to remove the remains of blood aggravating my sight. A blue dot in the distance started to analyze itself, assuming shape and meaning.

Then everything became hazy. Upon realizing who it was, everything froze, the world collapsed, my breath stopped. Remember myself trying to stand up, falling to my knees, crawling across the mud like a madwoman, screaming for help.

Upon reaching him, I was able to assess the true extent of what had transpired. An oversized part of Robotnik's latest creation had been detached from the main body and landed on both of his legs, also covering part of his lower torso. Sonic was barely conscious, breath heavy, pulse growing weaker with every passing instant. A primitive, wordless outcry burned through my lungs at the unbearable sight. I attempted to lift the machinery off him, but to no avail. Then, as if reciting some silly poems, and with tears running down my muzzle, I called every name crossing my mind. Tails. Knuckles. Shadow. Rouge.

Someone. Please.

_My love is dying and I can do nothing about it._

Kept promising myself I would be brave for his sake, so I tried to smile while caressing the dirt off that beautiful face. He looked up and smiled back, in his adorable, childish, trademark way.

"We made it again, didn't we?"

It was obvious that he was in a lot of pain, because, despite the carefree façade, his face traits would periodically contort to a mask of agony.

"Nope", I retorted, and my voice was coarse and barely audible. "You did it. You defeated Egghead, again."

He chuckled weakly. "Quite a ride, eh?"

I tried to agree verbally, but every sound produced was muffled by irrepressible tears. We pass every day of our busy lives concerned with the petty problems of our quotidianity. We think that those we love will live forever, and thus many important things remain unsaid and undone. There were countless words lingering behind my lips. _You are the most important person in my life and should I lose you now everything will be meaningless. I know you've never looked at me that way, but you are my second half, have been, and will always be. I feel useless for not being able to help you. And more importantly, I am sorry for not understanding and respecting the fact that you simply wanted to be free all these years. I love you. _

Half-intoxicated by the adrenaline pumping through my veins, I could hardly tell reality from contemplation. There was a messy conglomerate of thoughts, a feminine voice muttering nonsense at an impossible speed, a man crying. And, when clarity kicked in, it was just us, male and female, me having actually said all that stuff, and him with eyes riddled with tears.

"Nope, Ames. I am sorry.", he finally said, and there was something within the stare we exchanged that felt odd, unusual.

"Sorry for what?"

A small laugh.

"Because I have been an ass. Because I kept telling myself I had time- and- because-because..."

He coughed heavily, then grabbed my shoulder with a desperation surreally unlike him.

"Shhh. It'll be okay", I blatantly lied, being unable to come up with anything else to say. I knew it wasn't okay. I knew nothing was going to be okay again. Sonic was continuously aggravating, and trying to mutter something unintelligible. I could only understand he was repeating the same thing over and over again, like a mantra.

"I can't hear you, Sonic."

"..."

.

.

.

.

.

I wish a goddamn truck had torn me to bits that very same morning. Before exiting the apartment. Before joining the battle. Before witnessing my love suffering and dying.

I wish a truck had torn me to bits, because, upon hearing that last phrase, he held me so tight that I hurt.

Because he pulled me down towards him with all of his remaining strength.

But most importantly, I wish a truck had torn me to bits, because when he brought his lips to mine and kissed me deeply and sorrowfully, it tasted like everything I had ever wanted but couldn't have.

* * *

Irony is a funny thing. Fate can be cruel or inexplicably humorous. Every choice we make is essentially mere chance.

Our actions instigate a chaos of possible and impossible outcomes, and we rarely consider the consequences.

If we hadn't arranged this venture, Sonic wouldn't have been hurt.  
If Sonic hadn't been hurt, he wouldn't have thought he was about to die.  
If he hadn't thought he was about to die, he wouldn't have kissed me.

But the expedition happened, and Sonic got severely injured by a huge piece of falling metal. And he kissed me, believing he was about to die.

But he didn't.


End file.
